


The Siege of Rio de Janeiro

by elstarwarslover



Series: The Search for Perfection [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, The Big Battle™, so enjoy!, this is the end of act 1, well the first part of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-16 08:09:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12338790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elstarwarslover/pseuds/elstarwarslover
Summary: Vishkar attempts to retake Rio de Janeiro after Lúcio's rebellion





	1. Lúcio

Lúcio looked around at the makeshift army he had cobbled together to fight off the invading Vishkar’s forces.  He didn’t know how long they would have to hold out, nor if they could even successfully push back their initial attacks, much less if they could sustain a siege of any kind.  But he hoped against hope that between the tech he had distributed and their superior knowledge of the city, they would be able to hold out long enough that Vishkar directed its attention to another, more profitable city.

It struck him as greedy that he would wish Rio de Janeiro’s suffering onto someone else, but it was the best he could do at the moment, strapped for cash and struggling to keep some semblance of government in tact against the profiteers and slumlords who had appeared as if out of nowhere to prey on the city’s newfound weakness.  In an attempt to legitimize the revolution in the world’s eyes, he had elected not to join that government, but every day he questioned whether that was the correct decision.

Looking across at Vishkar’s neat little rows filled with soldiers ready to mobilize at any moment, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.  An elite force would certainly be useful right now, especially if it meant that his friends and family wouldn’t be the ones putting their lives on the line.  But there was only so much you could do with no money, and the only merc in the business of charity was a thousand miles away or more.  So this would have to do.

Lúcio looked back at his own people, noting again how many of them were younger than him, how many were only barely adults, how many were younger still.  All of them desperate to hold onto the freedom they had only just achieved.  All of them willing to die.

He shuddered at the thought.  Not one of them was old enough to be approaching anything close to death.  Hell, even he was too young to be staring at his own grave, yet here he was.  Ready to do whatever was necessary to save his family.

“Hey, Alê, climb up onto that ledge up there.  It’ll give you a better sight line, and something to hide behind when they try to get through.”  She acknowledged his command and began to climb.

“People of Rio de Janeiro!”  The other voice echoed in the small camp they had set up, and Lúcio adjusted his speakers up to counteract the mind control effects he  _ knew _ they were using.  “The organization you have set up is illegal and immoral.  You have committed acts of violence against your government and its partners.  Some of you have even gone so far as to commit treason.”

The people around Lúcio appeared shaken, as if the full weight of what they had done was just now hitting them.  Some of them looked towards Lúcio, for some sort of guidance he guessed, while others just stared at the ground in contemplation.  Still others, mostly the young ones, looked upset at the comment, varying rapidly between enraged and terrified.  Lúcio tried to put on a brave face, himself, to give them an anchor to which to tether themselves through the storm.  The truth was, he had a sinking feeling that some of their worst fears would be realized today.

“However!” the voice continued.  “We are not unreasonable.  Those who lay down their arms now and surrender will be treated with mercy.  Those who continue to be belligerent will suffer the consequences of such.”

Not-so-quiet murmurs began to bubble over around Lúcio, whose own fears were already beginning to come true.  But he would not give up; among other things, he was certain that his definition of mercy differed greatly from Vishkar’s, and he wasn’t eager to give it a field test.  He gave a few pointed looks at the chattier members of the militia, then directed his eyes back forward, back towards the park where Vishkar had set up.

“People of Vishkar!” he responded after a moment of deliberation.  “You have invaded our homeland, exploited our people, stolen our freedom, and threatened our very way of life!  However!  We are not unreasonable.  Leave now, and forever, and we will show you mercy.”

Lúcio hoped that his response had struck the right tone.  It didn’t matter, necessarily, if Vishkar took him seriously, as they had already decided on their course of action; what he needed was for his own people to listen to him and be inspired.  Or, at the least, to regain their confidence for the upcoming fight.

The next few moments held an intensity that could turn coal into diamond.  Although the people around him looked less fearful, they didn’t look anywhere near ready to fight.  And Vishkar was taking its sweet time in responding, likely to demoralize the militia even further.  At least, that was the effect it was having, as anticipation and boredom mixed in what could prove to be a lethal combination.  Seconds dragged on and became minutes.  An eternity passed before any news came out of the opposing camp.

“People of Rio de Janeiro!  A reward of 300.000 reais is now being offered to anyone who apprehends and turns over members of this rebellion’s leadership.  This includes: Lúcio Correia dos Santos, Isabella Carvalho Correia, and any other person or persons whose leadership position in the rebellion can be proven!”

_ Isabella?  She’s not even involved! _

This time it was Lúcio who was unnerved.  He knew they had probably gotten his name from the jail records, but she had just been a visitor.  How could they know that name?  Why would they target her?  And God knows what they would do if they captured her.

No.  This ended today.  It had to.  For his family’s safety.  For his people’s freedom.

“People of Vishkar!  I have attempted to apprehend this Lúcio Correia dos Santos!  You have my sincerest apologies, but he simply insists that you come get him yourself!”

“This is your last warning.  We will take action if you do not surrender.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, then Lúcio heard the unmistakable snap of an indeterminate number of heels snapping together simultaneously.  Quickly afterwards came the sounds of those same heels marching in unison.  He took a quick moment to thank God that the new government had set itself up in such an easily defensible place.  Just by barricading a couple of nearby streets, he would force the invading force through the Arco do Teles, where their numbers would be useless.  Their superior weapons and armor were another story, but hopefully the militia’s positioning alone would hold it together.  Hopefully.

As the army approached, Lúcio noticed the blue glow of hard light shielding, and prayed that it was weaker than he remembered.  Of course, it wouldn’t be, but it was worth the prayer.  They stopped on the other end of the arch, then a group of five or ten broke off and started down the narrow hallway separating the two armies.

Lúcio gave the signal for his people to open fire, and they did so.  The result wasn’t nearly as dramatic as he had predicted, nor half as effective as he had hoped.  Instead, the shielding seemed to take most of the initial blows, and the leader of the party threw up a barrier that stopped the rest.  In fact, that the mercs had even noticed the gunfire was doubtful, given how little it seemed to slow them down.

They made it through the passageway without so much as looking up, then began to return fire on whoever they could see.  Lúcio responded quickly, racing along the ground and occasionally along the walls to wherever they seemed to be focusing their efforts, and healing the wounds of anyone near him.  Each time he made a pass, he turned towards tiny bit of ground the enemy had gained and lobbed off a volley of shots in its direction.

After a minute or so of this, the barrier began to crack, then shattered, leaving the group of mercs near-defenseless against the onslaught of gunfire.  They then promptly crumbled and retreated back through the archway, suffering more than their fair share of wounds.  Lúcio looked quickly and saw what he thought was another combat medic tending to their wounds.

He took the quiet moment between assaults to review his own situation.  A few of his own had fallen, but thanks to the healing of Vishkar’s speakers, they seemed to have sustained no permanent injuries.

He didn’t have long to contemplate this, though, as another wave started its push.  This time, pumped up by adrenaline and the thrill of their previous success, Lúcio’s militia needed no prompting to open fire on the mercs.  As before, they opened up a barrier to protect from the damage and returned fire as best they could.

This time, they were not nearly so cautious as the last group.  Instead of gaining a piece of ground, they rushed from favelan to favelan, attempting to focus enough of them down to snowball the rest of the battle.  Lúcio was barely fast enough to get from person to person, but he did have his own tricks.  He had written another song in the month or so since the revolution, one he had designed to amplify his and allies’ speed when put through Vishkar’s speakers.  With this advantage and the constant crossfire through the courtyard, Lúcio managed to break their barrier, and then their shields again.  Suddenly without protection, the enemy soldiers broke ranks and rushed back through the archway to the relative safety of their numbers.

So far so good.  Two pushes, two successful defenses.  The morale of the group was definitely up, and a couple of the people who had fallen in the first push were beginning to wake up.  Good, more hands for the next push.

This time, when they pushed forward, they didn’t even bother trying to come out into the plaza.  Instead, they set up their barrier right at the end and just fired at whomever they could see looking straight forward.  It was relatively easy to keep them there, although without every available gun having a line of sight, it seemed like they would be able to sit there forever.

Among them, Lúcio noticed one person just standing there, doing nothing.  He was dressed differently than the others, and seemed to be positioned behind them.  In fact, now that he had a good look, it looked like he was talking to someone, maybe giving them orders?

It was strange, as Lúcio had assumed that Vishkar’s officers would stay behind and command from safety.  They didn’t seem the type to risk their best people.  But then, Rio de Janeiro might be a bigger target than Lúcio had anticipated, in which case this was only the beginning.   _ Damn _ .

The man continued talking, paused, then signaled for the group to charge forward.  Lúcio smiled; apparently they hadn’t learned anything from the last two pushes.  Or maybe they thought that having an officer there would somehow change the outcome, even if he didn’t do anything.  Whatever it was, Lúcio and the militia were more than ready to take them on.

And it seemed to be going well—at first.  Just like before, they tried to rush individuals and take them down, and just like before Lúcio always got there in time to break their ranks and force them to take another target.  But something was wrong.  Each time they moved, it took longer to break them, and they seemed a much larger group than before.  Lúcio looked back towards the archway, which was still empty, and half-barricaded from the other side, presumably so that the militia wouldn’t be able to break into Vishkar’s full ranks and sow discord there.

So he looked behind him, to where the favelans had barricaded off roads to secure the area.  Lo and behold, there was a full extra squadron there, sowing discord within his own ranks and making its own crossfire to replace the militia’s.  Favelans were falling left and right to the new squad, while the old one simply acted as a distraction.

Right in the center of the new push was one woman, one whom Lúcio swore he recognized but could not put a name to.  Everywhere she went, she dropped one of Lúcio’s militia, and every time a shield broke, she snapped her fingers and it was replaced.  So she was Vishkar’s backup plan, or maybe their original plan all along.

“Alê!” he shouted up towards the platform.  “How long can you hold out?”

“Not too long without you, Lúcio.  Why?  What are you planning?”  Lúcio nodded towards the central woman, then back towards the cathedral.  “All right, I’ll try my best, but without those speakers we’re not going to be half as effective.”

“Thanks.  Call for a retreat if you need to, we’ve got space to work with.”  Lúcio directed his attention back towards the woman, whose body count was growing by every second.  He fired a volley of four shots at her, leading each enough to make contact, then made sure she saw him.  He spiked the volume on his speaker, and shouted out a taunt.  “Ooh, you hear that?”

She started towards him and released a few balls of energy, which he dodged with ease.

“Catch me if you can!” he shouted, then turned around and began skating along the narrow corridor to the cathedral where the government had set up, and where they were currently hiding.  He only slowed down for an instant, to make sure that she was following him, before he started climbing to the roof of a nearby building.  And there he waited.


	2. Symmetra

The first squad ran back through the archway, ragged and bloody, their faces reflecting a mixture of horror and pain.  Unfortunate.  Symmetra had hoped that this excursion would go easily.  

Their job was to use any means necessary to break up the rioters and arrest all members of the illegitimate government they had set up.  In theory, the opposition was under-equipped, mismanaged, and wholly unprepared for the kind of firepower that Vishkar had brought.  The reality was that their first force hadn’t stood a chance, and the second one wouldn’t either, if something didn’t change.

Not that her officers would ever recognize that: they had a long history of underestimating those whom they didn’t understand, and this was no different.  So, instead of allowing them to continue to call shots and fail, she called all of her officers together and gave them a new plan.

This time, when the squad walked down the narrow passage to the enemies’ plaza, they had no intention of setting up and slowly gaining ground.  Instead, they rushed from combatant to combatant, trying to stir up as much chaos as possible.  Symmetra followed them closely, using the action as cover to use her energy drain and charge up enough to set up a teleporter.

Every time the squad would begin to lose its shielding, they would rush to a new combatant, and as they ran, Symmetra replenished their personal shields.  As she predicted, though, this was not a sustainable strategy.  They simply were not fast enough to take down any of the rioters before being forced to move.  On top of that, the longer they stayed in enemy territory, the more difficult it became to keep their shielding adequate.

Finally, noting that she would no longer be skilled enough to sustain her squad’s tactics, Symmetra peeled back well behind enemy lines and allowed the rest of her squad to fall back as they had planned.  The rest was up to her.

She took a moment to peek out of cover and make note of her enemies’ positions.  There was one clear leader—whom she guessed was Lúcio Correia dos Santos—who was rushing from rioter to rioter, seeming to heal their wounds.  There was one woman standing on high ground above the plaza, which helped to explain the initial group’s failed push.  The rest of the rioters were scattered about the plaza behind various pieces of makeshift cover.

_ Okay.  Time to go to work. _

Satya made sure that no one was watching her, then snuck up closer to the main group of enemy combatants, where she placed a sentry turret before running back to cover.  It had the same effect as her energy drain, accumulating energy for her to build with when it became important.

Unfortunately, it was easily spotted and more easily destroyed, which meant that each one would only get a very limited amount of use.  Sure enough, after only a few seconds of charging, Symmetra received the death signal that her turrets emitted upon receiving catastrophic damage.

She knew that the group she had just hit would be on the lookout for the source of the turret, so this time she set off in the other direction, towards a smaller group.  She would have to get closer to guarantee a hit, but the risk was worth it, necessary even.  She did want to  _ win _ the battle after all, not just sit behind enemy lines for an eternity.  She managed to get the turret set up just as one of the rioters was turning around and had to roll down behind cover.

_ Gods, don’t let him see me.  Not like this, not without backup. _

The stress alone was beginning to get to her, but Symmetra would not allow it to show, could not allow it to show.  This was war, and war does not have room for weakness.  Symmetra looked down at her charge counter.

_ 86%.  87%.  88%.  89%.  Turret destroyed.  90%. _

It was now close enough that she could wait out the rest, but there was still the matter of the rioter who had nearly seen her.  She gave herself a moment to think, then decided to call in a distraction.  She sent a quick message to her other officers, instructing them to send in a squad to take fire for her while she escaped back into the backline.  Then, after another moment, she sent another instructing the officers to be ready as soon as the teleporter was up.

The sound of gunfire hit her ears, and she rolled out of cover then ran back to the safety of the far back of the plaza.  She looked back towards the archway and saw a squad exactly as she had described it.  A tank was set up to block gunfire, and behind him were just enough guns to sustain the fight.  In the far back was one officer, waiting on her word to initiate combat.  They made eye contact and nodded.  Symmetra scouted out a good spot to hide her teleporter so that the plaza would be most easily overrun.

_ 94%. _

Off to her right was a small road that seemed to be relatively unguarded, due to its end being completely blockaded.  Clearly the rioters hadn’t thought that anyone could get through there, so it was the perfect place to set up a second squad.  She glanced back at her squad and saw the shield beginning to show signs of severe damage.  If she wasn’t fast enough, they would be forced to signal a retreat, and Symmetra didn’t think they would risk another assault.  If this plan failed, the other officers would just set block off the last road and let the rioters go hungry until they surrendered.

_ 95%. _

Symmetra ran towards the spot she had marked, placing another sentry turret when she passed a group of combatants, and found it just as empty as she had seen earlier.  Meanwhile, her sentry turret, now happily ignored, had finished charging her teleporter, thank the gods.

“Teleporter online,” she said over her comm to the other officers.  Her second squad flooded through, and she directed them towards the fight, where her frontline squad had begun its work diving on the enemy setup.  “Put pressure where I do; the enemies will fall soon enough.”

The squad acknowledged her orders and began laying down cover fire for her.  She used it to rush up to the main battle, but instead of following the first squad—which, in truth, was only a distraction—she worked her way around the fringes of the plaza, using her energy drain to bring down the rioters’ support fire.

Moreover, it seemed to be working, perhaps even better than she had planned.  The rioters were too distracted to notice the extra agents running through their ranks, and by the time they noticed it would be far too late for them to do anything.  Her energy drain was already at full power, so it only took her a second to take out each enemy she reached.  She took the small amount of time between each target to replenish her squad’s personal shields as was necessary.

By now the rioters knew that they were losing the battle, and Symmetra heard shouting all around her.  Not that it mattered; whatever plans they thought of no longer had any chance of success.  Symmetra felt her shield ripple, then nearly break.

_ Odd.  Who has that much firepower? _

She looked around to see the source of the disturbance, and found the rioters’ foremost leader himself staring her down.

“Ooh, you hear that?”

So it was to be a taunt then.  Very well.  She wasn’t quite close enough to use her energy drain directly, so instead she charged it up and shot a few projectiles at him, then followed them, hoping that he would stand his ground while she approached.

“Catch me if you can!” he shouted, then turned around and began out of the plaza.  Symmetra briefly considered letting him go.  He was clearly the source of their power, and without him the rest of the fight would be easy.  But if she didn’t follow, he would just return, perhaps with reinforcements.  Besides that, she had confidence that her officers could handle something so simple as continuing the fight.  She signaled to them to announce her departure, then followed Lúcio down the corridor he had chosen for their fight.

When she caught back up, she saw him… skating on the walls?  He definitely didn’t have either foot on the ground.  In fact, it almost seemed like he was showing off how well he could use the technology he stole.  It was unnerving.  He continued along the walls, jumping from one side to the other when they turned.

Eventually, he did drop to the ground, but only long enough to jump up and grab a ledge above him.  Clearly, he had more than enough momentum to make the jump as he seemed to expend almost no energy to hoist himself up.  Symmetra had far less luck getting up.  The ledge that Lúcio had grabbed onto was too far up for her to jump to.  But she  _ had _ to apprehend him.  There wasn’t another option.  She had already committed to this.  So she crafted some handholds out of light, tested them to ensure they’d hold her, then climbed up to the roof where she hoped to find him.

And there he was, not standing ready for battle, but sitting, slouched over the far edge of the building.  It was nothing like she had expected, but she had been surprised before.  Comparatively, this was nothing.

“You will return what you stole,” she began.  He almost seemed to laugh at her, but then quieted down again.

“What I stole?  Vishkar stole everything from us.  This was just repayment.”

“Vishkar gave you a chance at utopia, which you threw away when you refused to lead ordered lives.”

The sound of shouting reached the rooftop from back at the plaza, but was quickly replaced by the sound of gunfire approaching.

“You just don’t get it do you.  Vishkar wanted to enslave us.  They  _ did _ enslave us.  They shot with intent to kill at civilians well before we rebelled against them,” Lúcio responded.

“Which would not have been necessary had you simply submitted to the rules that Vishkar set up for you.”

“Necessary.  Huh.  Was the explosion necessary too?  Or just incredibly lucky?”

The gunfire died down as the rebels took up position and Vishkar regrouped in the plaza.  They only had one more push until they were upon the site of the illegal government, a fact that she knew Lúcio was aware of.  Still, she had work to do.

“There is no way I could have known what would happen.  Calado was an opponent, sure, but we have never resorted to such extreme measures in the past, and there simply is no evidence to support wrongdoing by my superiors in the matter.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.  I mean do you even care who dies here?  What their stories are?  Who their families are?  Are we  _ anything _ but numbers to you?”

“Of course you are.  That’s why my soldiers are under strict orders not to kill anyone, on pain of their own lives.  Sanjay disapproves, but Sanjay’s not the one in charge of this mission.”

Lúcio seemed to slouch even further then turned around and stood up, looking at Satya for the first time.  She noticed what appeared to be tears in his eyes, but why he would be crying she could not guess.

“I—I don’t know what to say.  Thank you,” Lúcio said.

The sounds of battle reached the rooftop again; Vishkar had started its final push.  

“I need to go,” he added.

“You know I can’t let you do that.”

“I know.”  A burst of noise thundered from where Lúcio was standing, and Satya found that the ground beneath her was gone, replaced by wind and the sudden realization that she was falling.  The blue glow of her personal shields burst, and then everything went black.


	3. Epilogue

Satya did not hear the song that was playing by her bed quite so much as she felt it.  It was pleasant, relaxing, almost healing even.  She wished she knew what it was but every time she thought she found a pattern in it, it changed.  A shame; she could have made use of it on the battlefield.

“I have a daughter, you know,” a voice said from somewhere close.  Satya opened her eyes and saw a woman across from her standing over a stove.  “I stopped falling for the pretending-to-be-asleep gag a long time ago.”

“This music: what is it?” Satya asked.  She could not help but feel annoyance at the fact that she hadn’t been given time to wake up on her own, but she was not at home, so she had no right to criticize.

“Do you like it?  Lúcio said it would help you heal.  I had my doubts, but here you are, alive and well,” the woman continued.

“Strange.  I thought he disliked me.”

“He does, very much so.  But he said he owed you for sparing our lives, so he came back for you after he routed your forces.”

“Thank you.  Both of you.”  Satya had no idea how to continue the conversation, so she continued sitting on the bed, making as little noise as possible until a thought occurred to her.  “Haven’t I met you before?”

“You saved my daughter, Rosa, from a fire.”

_ Fuck. _

“Ah, yes, that.  Um.  How, how is she by the way?”

“She’s doing better.  She was embarrassed at first, thought the other kids would make fun of her for her scars.  Hell, they  _ did _ make fun of her.  But she’s slowly gaining her confidence back.”

“Oh, good, I’m glad.”  Satya omitted her own personal thoughts on the matter; it saddened her that Rosa had lost the perfection she had had earlier in life, but it would be cruel to mention that.

“You know, it’s funny, she blamed herself for the fire.  Something about being nicer to the ‘woman in white’ whatever that means.”  The woman chuckled.  “It’s childish, I know.  Not that I don’t have my own doubts of course.  It was awfully convenient that Vishkar’s only competition here literally blew up right after he secured the contract with the mayor.”

“I—”  Satya remembered her conversation with Lúcio, then revised her response.  “I was not aware of what would happen.”

“So you deny Vishkar’s hand in it then?”

“I can’t do that—my boss, he doesn’t tell me these things—only what to do and when to do it—but I wouldn’t have destroyed the building, I—I couldn’t have, it was wrong…”

“That’s what I thought.”  The woman looked around then grabbed a bowl and filled it with whatever soup she had been cooking.  She brought it over to the bed and handed it to Satya.  “Here, eat, you’ve been out for a couple days.”

Satya looked away, but took the bowl.

“Thank you.”

“You know she’s afraid to be here?  With you?”  Satya shot her head back up to look the woman in the eye.  “Every second you’re here is a second that my daughter is afraid to be inside her own home.  Do you know what that feels like?  As a mother, to know that your child can’t be home for fear?”

A second passed, then another, then another.  Finally, Rosa’s mother began again.

“I think it’s best that you leave when you’re done eating.  Maybe question your bosses about their behavior here, if you really care that much.”

_ Yes.  I think I will. _


End file.
